


Unanticipated Outcomes

by Brytewolf (brytewolf)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mind Meld, Telepathic Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-11
Updated: 2011-08-11
Packaged: 2017-10-22 12:56:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/238235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brytewolf/pseuds/Brytewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim finally has Spock where he wants him. But not even his wildest fantasies could prepare him for this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unanticipated Outcomes

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* * *

**Unanticipated Outcomes**

* * *

Stepping forward, he runs his hands through the thick hair on the chest before him. His eyes follow the trail of his fingers, mesmerized, unbelieving. He's wanted this for so long, and now that his wildest fantasy has actually come _true_ , and the slim Vulcan stands before him – bare, expectant – he doesn't know where to begin.

When he glances up, there's laughter lurking in those warm brown eyes as Spock closes the remaining distance between them. Then long fingers brush against his cheek, tangle in the curls above his temple.

He can't help but lean into the touch, a soft whimper of longing escaping his throat. It's only a moment before warm lips are against his again, and there's a clash of teeth and tongue and a flare of heat renews its roiling in his belly.

He _wants_ , he has wanted, he _always_ wants this man, and his hands automatically pull Spock closer. So close, but not close enough because there is still space between their skin and it is not acceptable.

But the Vulcan seems to understand. Inhumanely strong arms wrap around his torso, tug on his hips, bringing them flush from hip to shoulder and he gives a shuddering breath against those lips that never really smile – except that now, they are.

"What do you want, Jim?" that deep voice asks him, and he watches as that almost-smile spreads just a fraction further as his brain seems to stutter and stop at the possibilities. He can't think, he's just this ball of need and longing and heat and _want_.

He wants everything.

"You…you, everywhere, always," he manages to gasp out through that barricade blockading his mouth from the rest of his body. This time he's nearly crushed against that lithe form, and the feel of Spock's hard length rutting against his thigh is enough to literally stop his brain from functioning.

A gasp escapes, and the only distant part of his brain that isn't involved in the blood pooling between his thighs registers that there are three fingers pressed delicately against the fragile bones of his face.

"May I?" Spock murmurs before the Vulcan is nuzzling against his neck, his ear, hot breath against his skin reducing to ash any hope of gaining back brain functions.

All he can do is grunt in assent, not truly understanding the question but knowing that he would give this man anything, he would pull his heart out of his own chest and hand it to Spock, if the Vulcan only asked.

He was not expecting this. A flood of so many things, pouring into him and making the world disappear. _Spock_ , filling him, trickling into every corner, every piece of him - even those he dared not venture into himself. Such a bright, blinding sense of _Spock_ , of love and untarnished joy and a _want_ that burns just as intensely as his own.

He's lucky there is a strong arm wrapped around him, otherwise when his knees buckled he would have ended up on the floor. But even so, he's only held in that arm for a moment before he slips down to his knees.

It calls to him. That need thrumming through his veins that is not his own. He wants…he wants to show Spock just how much he needs the Vulcan, he wants Spock every way he can get him. He just has to decide on which one will be first.

It's really very easy, when it comes down to it. Gazing hungrily at the flushed green cock before him, he can't help but lick his lips. There are still fingers pressed gently against his temple, a curl of humor at his zeal reaching him from that part of _Spock_ that floods through him.

There will be time. Plenty of time later – he _knows_ , he can sense from that presence inside him, that this is not going to be a one-time thing, that this is something _special_ , an always-and-forever kind of thing which would make him ridiculously giddy if it weren't for his focus at this precise moment. So even though he wants to take it slow, to relish everything as it happens – what he wants even more is to just feel Spock inside him in one way or another, or all of them, to taste the Vulcan's tang on his tongue.

It lacks his usual finesse, but what it lacks he's sure he makes up for in enthusiasm. He dives, and in one sure long stroke he has as much of the Vulcan sliding down his throat as he can take.

That's when it happens. Something he certainly wasn't expecting, and certainly wasn't guarding against. Nothing could have prepared him for the awareness pouring into him from _Spock_ so he feels both the simultaneous sensation of the silken skin of Spock's dick sliding against his tongue, and the hot slick cavern of his mouth wrapped around the Vulcan's flesh as if it were his own.

Reflexively, he gulps in surprise – and he can feel the muscles of his throat working against the head of Spock's dick, and that's all that registers before he's seeing stars. He moans as the strongest orgasm he's ever felt explodes through his body, ripping the long ropes of cum out of him to paint the Vulcan's shins.

Afterwards, he can't do anything but gasp, clinging to the muscular legs before him as he buries his face against Spock's hipbone. A face he can feel warming, bright red heat spreading in shame.

Never, ever has he come without even a hand on his cock, worse than a teenage boy during his first stumbling attempts – and it's certainly not that he hasn't had any experience before tonight. In his embarrassment, in his drastic need to hide and forget the past five minutes even happened, he'd forgotten that he still wasn't alone in his head. At least, he does until that sense of _Spock_ envelopes him, wrapping his self in warmth and delight and just a lingering sparkle of humor.

"You may have practiced what passes for sexual encounters between two humans, love," says Spock's gentle voice, somehow heard through his ears and felt in his bones at the same time. Beautiful. Always stunningly, brightly beautiful, even in his shame. "But until you have discovered how Vulcan telepathy can enhance the experience, your knowledge is deficient."

Gathering the tattered remains of his pride back together, he reminds himself that this is _Spock_ – the one who will never judge him, the one who obviously blatantly he-knows-cause-he-can-feel-it-in-his-skin loves him no matter what. And he shifts against that taut skin, nuzzles against the cock that is still standing at attention in front of him. He lets his tongue lick a long stripe against the underside, loving how he can feel Spock shudder from the inside and the outside.

When his eyes look up, meeting the Vulcan's, most of his cockiness is back in place and he can't help but smile wickedly as he plants a kiss against a flushed green head.

"Show me."


End file.
